“Here,” I said after swallowing the most delectable bite of cheesecake I’d ever had the pleasure of devouring. I scooped up another—admittedly much smaller—piece and held it toward Noah’s mouth. His brow rose. “Your hands are full. Go ahead.”
It was true. He was holding both his coffee and the container, which he seemed to realize a moment later.
All hesitation gone, he leaned forward until his lips closed around the bite of caramelly goodness, and I licked my own lips—partially to get any leftover taste from my first bite but mostly because I really,reallyliked the feel of Noah taking a bite from the fork I held.
He hummed as he backed off, using the thumb from his coffee-filled hand to rub along his lower lip and collect a crumb. I’d been tempted to collect it myself.
“Really good surprise,” I said as I took another—slightlylarger—bite myself.
He looked entirely too pleased with himself as I held out another bite for him, but I suppose he kind of earned it, considering this cheesecake tasted like what I assumed the Russian grandmother from my cooking shows made in her old-fashioned kitchen.
It was rich, but still light and fluffy without being underwhelming. I might’ve fallen a little bit in love with it as we took turns taking bites until we quickly made it through half of the slice.
In a moment of unexpected willpower, I set the fork next to the rest of the cheesecake and let out a hum of content. “Want to save the rest for after our coffee? I know I’ll be craving something sweet again.”
Noah breathed out a light laugh, but he didn’t argue as he closed the container and set it beside the tree trunk.
I sighed happily and took a tentative sip of espresso. Still hot, but not scalding. “Thanks, Noah. That was a wonderful surprise.”
“I’m glad you liked it.”
We both smiled at each other, and I felt decidedly silly as I fiddled with the strings of my hoodie. But the strong aroma of Noah’s plain coffee overshadowed my own sweet drink as he lifted the cup up to hide his smile, and my nose wrinkled at the strength of it.
I tried to contain a grimace, but from the shudder that racked my body, I figured I wasn’t successful. “I don’t know how you can drink that.”
Noah took another sip with his brow furrowed in thought. “It has a rich flavor. It’s bold, but not overpowering… although I suppose it’s an acquired taste.”
“And how exactly do you acquire it?” I did my best to hold in a sneer as I eyed his cup.
“Black coffee isn’t quite as excruciating as you seem to think,” Noah said, eyes lighting in amusement. His head tilted to the side, and he studied my face so closely I started to rethink my skin-care routine. “If you give it a chance.”
Noah’s lips turned up slyly, and the look in his eyes could’ve swallowed me whole as his hand cupped my jaw. My breath caught as his finger brushed my earlobe, sending shivers down my spine. He had the audacity to calmly take a drink of his coffee as I struggled to regulate my breathing.
“Noah, what are you…?”
He moved closer until his chest was crowding mine and my head had to tip back to look at him. Then he leaned in until our breath mingled. My own lips froze as his brushed against them, and my eyes widened in shock before sliding shut.
And then it really sank in that Noah Kincaid was kissing me.
It was chaste and sweet, two soft lips pressed warmly against mine.
Until his moved—and mine joined in the dance. The freeloader butterflies in my stomach awoke from their nap as their wings took flight. Every inch of my skin felt like it’d burst into flame from the pressure of his lips. My hands moved up to his shoulders of their own accord, and Noah’s arm found its way around my waist as I closed what little distance remained between us.
When his hand on my jaw slid down to my neck as his lips fused against mine, I could’ve sworn I floated for a moment as the butterflies worked themselves into a tizzy. Noah was warm and welcoming and all kinds of wonderful.
It was over before I had a chance to fully appreciate his firm lips moving against mine, and Noah pulled back a few inches until he was gazing down at me. He looked equally affected by the kiss—glazed eyes and flushed cheeks—which filled me with such a heady dose of female empowerment that I wanted to beat my fists against my chest and scream out a womanly war cry. Or maybe high-five someone. Or just smile, which was what I ended up doing.
His thumb slid along the skin of my jaw, and a sharp tang lingered on my lips. Licking it off, I tasted the strength and richness of the coffee, but I also tastedNoah.
I belatedly realized I’d dropped my mostly full coffee cup onto the grass—a first degree offense if there ever was one—but I somehow couldn’t find it in myself to care.
“Consider me converted,” I said breathlessly.
That was a lie. Black coffee still sucked, and I wished it would burn in hell for the rest of eternity, but Noah Kincaid tasted pretty darn good. Good enough to mask the bitterness, especially when he was looking at me with eyes that made me feel like I was the most precious thing he’d ever seen.
If someone could bottle that look, it’d be one heck of a drug.
My gaze dropped to where his parted lips curved into a smile. “Actually, hold that thought. Just to be sure…”
